Poet and Pet

In the shadows of temples built for gods
we were revered and domesticated
only as far as our desire
for adoration and respect required —
colleagues in solidarity, aloof,
we, the night stalkers and day dreamers,
pursuers of gnawers of roots,
of thieves cool and sneaky in their greed,
of those too careless in their flights.

We keep each other company
in contemplation of transcendent
peace, outside of time, outside of need —
satisfied and independent,
yet always vigilant, seeking threads
of truth beyond the comfort of easy chair,
beyond the eyes and ears of fences
we stand on light feet, tensed to pounce
upon the heedless stir or errant word.

Our language invites a sensuous thrill
with signs and sounds, with instincts and symbols
marked by deliberate strokes or upraised tail —
a caress excites our selfish fancy as
we stretch and purr to express our pleasure;
we give grace to the chase and to the dance
manifesting our disdain of fear in carefree leaps,
weaponless in friendship, lethal in attack
with pen in hand or with claws bared.

Guardians of sunrays on restful watch
we keen our sensitivity in play
sparring with imaginary foes for fun
like karate masters in comic books
kicking words into fantasies
more alive than politics or history —
icons of sorcery and imagination
we mix our elixirs of discovery and love
with the stealthy poetry of our freedom